We crossed paths again today
But how I saw him seemed to change
I noticed the fine details
And wrote them on this page
He's wearing filthy rags
Of pure gold
His hair matted and clumped
Is beaded with pearls
His ***** unkept beard
Hides rubies in every curl
His face, covered in dirt
Is kind and aesthetic
His callused and scarred hands
Have never formed a fist
His body is thin but strong
His voice is kind and gentle
People part when he passes
They move far away
They ridicule and hiss and scorn
Disgusted faces that they all make
They talk in hushed whispers
As they point and stare
I can barely stand to see this
But he doesn't seem to care
Today I walked beside him
Just to feel his pain
But what I felt was peacefulness
That feeling was so strange
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 10:15 AM UTC
We crossed paths again today
But how I saw him seemed to change
I noticed the fine details
And wrote them on this page
He's wearing filthy rags
Of pure gold
His hair matted and clumped
Is beaded with pearls
His ***** unkept beard
Hides rubies in every curl
His face, covered in dirt
Is kind and aesthetic
His callused and scarred hands
Have never formed a fist
His body is thin but strong
His voice is kind and gentle
People part when he passes
They move far away
They ridicule and hiss and scorn
Disgusted faces that they all make
They talk in hushed whispers
As they point and stare
I can barely stand to see this
But he doesn't seem to care
Today I walked beside him
Just to feel his pain
But what I felt was peacefulness
That feeling was so strange
M. McCrea